


The Wall

by glamourtentia, westerngenre



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: College AU, F/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 06:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamourtentia/pseuds/glamourtentia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/westerngenre/pseuds/westerngenre
Summary: The walls between college dorm rooms are very, very thin.





	The Wall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [westerngenre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/westerngenre/gifts), [glamourtentia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamourtentia/gifts).



> this work, most commonly referred to as "wall au", is a collaboration between myself and my partner in genjamé [ace](http://twitter.com/westerngenre) whomst i love very much. we spent most of 2017 discussing ways amélie and genji could sexually frustrate each other through a wall as college dorm neighbors, and this fic is the result. thank you and enjoy

In the two weeks since the start of the semester, Amélie still hadn’t met her next dorm neighbor, but she knew more about him than she really wanted to.

She knew his name was Genji, because that was what she heard his partners shout night after night. She didn’t know what he looked like, but she knew the way he always gasped and moaned when he came. She didn’t know what his major or hobbies were, but she knew he liked being tied up and ridden, and he _loved_ to beg.

Tonight, the sex noises had been going on for _ages_ , and Amélie was a little bit impressed by his apparent stamina, but mostly she was irritated. She was trying to study for her first biochemistry exam of the semester, and he was practically fucking _screaming_ , and it was extremely fucking distracting. It made Amélie want to scream, too.

She could’ve and maybe should’ve just gone to the library, but she’d already changed into pajamas, and the section she preferred for studying wouldn’t let her bring her Rockstar in. So she gritted her teeth and waited it out, trying her best to focus on the words on the page despite the sounds in the background.

Eventually, the noises peaked, then quieted, and Amélie sighed with relief. Fucking _finally_. But this wasn’t over. She was just pissed enough that she needed to give this asshole a piece of her mind.

As soon as she reached a good stopping point in her studying, Amélie pushed back from her desk with determination. She marched out of her room and knocked loudly on the door next to hers, and just a few seconds later it swung open.

“Did you forget somethi--” The man who answered the door stopped short when he saw Amélie, his mouth half open.

Amélie was caught off guard, too. _This_ was Genji? She hadn’t expected him to look...like this. His bare chest glistened with a light sheen of sweat, and his hair was sex-tousled, and his silky boxers didn’t leave much to the imagination. Jesus Christ.

Genji recovered first. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else -- ”

“You’re too loud,” Amélie bulldozed over him. She folded her arms across her chest, suddenly very self-conscious of her skimpy mismatched pajamas and her lack of makeup. “I am trying to study.”

“Sorry,” he said again, laughing a little bit and reaching up to scrub his hand through his hair. It made his bicep bulge. Amélie forced herself not to look. “I’m, uh -- we’re done now.”

Amélie rolled her eyes. “I know. I waited. Didn’t want to ruin your fun. Just keep it down next time, alright? I live right next door,” she said, gesturing to her right.

His eyes followed the movement before snapping back to her. “Will do.”

“Thanks.”

She turned to leave, but he quickly said, “I’m Genji, by the way.”

Amélie let out a huff of laughter. “I know. I’ve heard.”

“Right.” Genji looked sheepish.

Feeling a little bit bad for him, Amélie sighed and added, “I’m Amélie.”

A huge, bright smile spread across Genji’s face, and for some completely indiscernible reason, Amélie’s heart skipped a beat.

“Nice to meet you, neighbor.”

 

***

 

Six o’clock on Sunday morning found Genji stumbling across campus back to his dorm building after a long night of partying and mediocre sex. All he wanted was to get into his room and sleep for the next twelve hours.

As he neared the building, he caught sight of Amélie coming from the opposite direction. God, was she always so fucking gorgeous? She looked tired and grumpy, but somehow still like a goddamn supermodel. It was unfair and unreasonable, honestly.

They reached the entrance to their dorm building at the same time, and Genji flashed her the most charming grin he could muster when he was this hung over. “Good morning.”

Amélie wrinkled her nose. “Is it, though? Thanks,” she muttered as he opened the door for her.

Genji laughed and followed her in. “Not a morning person, huh?”

“Are you?”

“Totally. I just went for a morning jog.”

As they headed up the stairs towards their hall, Amélie looked Genji up and down, and he felt a hot flush crawling up his neck. She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You were wearing that yesterday.”

Genji tripped on a step, but managed to catch himself before he could fall. He’d seen Amélie around a few times in the week or so since she’d come by to complain about his loud sex, but they hadn’t actually interacted since then. He hadn’t thought she’d been looking at him, too. “You noticed?”

“It would be hard not to,” Amélie said, gesturing to his shirt with a smirk.

For a second Genji was too distracted by the closest thing to a smile he’d seen from Amélie to register what she meant, but then he quickly looked down at himself and -- oh god. Oh, god. He was wearing _that_ shirt. The one that was hot pink and said _PISS_ on it in huge, sparkling white letters. Of fucking course.

He forced a laugh and ran a hand through his hair, hoping she wouldn’t notice how embarrassed he was. “I guess so. Fine, you caught me. Walk of shame. You too?”

Amélie shrugged. “It’s only a walk of shame if you’re ashamed. And I’m never ashamed of getting good dick.”

Genji laughed again, genuine this time. “That’s a good philosophy.”

They reached their doors, and he paused, unsure if he should say or do something else. After a beat, he just lifted his hand in an awkward half-wave. “Well, uh. See you.”

“See you,” Amélie replied, and without another word disappeared into her room.

Genji stared at her closed door for a second, then sighed and went into his room to sleep the day away.

 

***

 

Maybe someday Amélie would run into Genji when she was actually well-dressed and put together. This was not that day.

It was laundry day, in fact, which meant she was wearing her high school physics club T-shirt and a pair of her ex’s boxers that she’d pretended she lost so she could keep them. They were comfy, and purple was her color.

She was sitting cross-legged on one of the shitty couches in the building laundry room when Genji walked in. For some fucking reason he was wearing a nice button-down shirt and tie with his fitted dark jeans, and he didn’t even have any laundry with him. Who the fuck did he think he was?

He spotted her right away and beamed at her as he made his way over to her. “Hey, Amélie.”

Amélie stretched out her legs and crossed them in front of her in an attempt to maintain some small shred of dignity. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but on laundry day you’re supposed to wear your worst clothes, not your best clothes.”

Genji laughed, and it was bright and melodious and absolutely unfair. “Oh, it’s not laundry day for me. I do laundry on Wednesdays. Washing Wednesdays, I call ‘em.” That was truly terrible, but Genji went on before Amélie could comment on it. “I just came from dinner with my brother. He’s like, a fancy business asshole, so I have to. You know.” He gestured vaguely to himself, and Amélie’s eyes automatically followed the movement, looking him up and down. God, he was hot.

“So if it’s not laundry day for you, what are you doing down here? Other than making the rest of us look bad.” Amélie was the only one in the laundry room. She hoped he wouldn’t point that out.

Instead, his grin grew wider, and he cocked his head. “Are you saying you think I look good?”

“I’m saying that anyone who isn’t wearing an embarrassing shirt from their high school days doesn’t belong down here.”

“Fair enough,” Genji said with another laugh. “Yeah, I’m just here to grab an energy drink. I have an entire philosophy paper to write tonight.”

Amélie wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”

“You’re telling me.” Genji turned to the vending machine next to the couches and started to fiddle with it.

Amélie thought about just going back to the game she’d been playing on her phone, but that felt sort of rude, and she was pretty sure she was about to lose anyway. “Intro to Philosophy?”

“Yep.”

“I took that last year. Who do you have?”

“Amari. Total hardass. Total MILF too, though.”

Amélie rolled her eyes and was about to give a witty retort, but then Genji’s can fell to the bottom of the vending machine, and he bent over to get it out, and holy fucking hell, she’d never seen him from behind before but now she didn’t really want to look at anything else ever again. His ass was fucking unbelievable.

He turned back around, and Amélie was yanked from her trance when she saw what was in his hands. “You drink fucking _Monster_?”

Genji frowned and looked down at the gauche black can he was holding. “Yeah, why? Is that weird?”

“It is when there’s Rockstar right there next to it.”

“You’re kidding, right? Monster is way better.”

Amélie shook her head with disgust. “Monster sucks.”

“ _You_ suck,” Genji retorted, actually pouting a little bit.

“Not for guys who drink Monster.”

Genji’s pout grew more exaggerated. “Well, now, that’s just discrimination.”

Amélie tried not to smile. “No, it’s self-respect. I don’t want the taste of Monster anywhere near me.”

Genji raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I don’t know whose dicks you’ve been sucking that taste like Monster, but give them my number.”

Amélie couldn’t stop herself from smiling now. “Will do.”

Genji’s eyes widened and his grin faltered slightly, but only for half a second before it was back brighter than ever, and he laughed. “Well, essay time. I’d stick around and keep you company, but I gotta get out of these clothes.” He tugged at his collar, and Amélie was hit with a vivid flashback of the first time she’d seen him, shirtless and sweaty and perfect.

She mentally shook herself. “Don’t worry about it. Good luck with your essay.”

“Thanks. Good luck with your laundry.” With one last smile, Genji turned and headed back out of the laundry room.

Amélie stared at his ass until the door swung shut behind him.

 

***

 

Genji couldn’t sleep. It was probably at least a little bit because it was only 10PM and he didn’t usually go to sleep until well after 2, but he was still going to blame it entirely on the fact that right next door, Amélie was having extremely loud sex.

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard her having sex -- the wall between their dorm rooms was ridiculously thin, and even relatively quiet sex was often audible -- but she usually wasn’t _this_ loud. And to think she’d had the gall to complain about _his_ loud sex.

He actually wouldn’t usually be too bothered, even by the excessive volume, except that he currently had a nasty cold and was really hoping to sleep it off before his ultimate frisbee game the next day. He’d play no matter what, definitely, but if he didn’t have to deal with a runny nose while doing it that would be fucking stellar.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Amélie was going to stop anytime soon. Frustrated, Genji pounded his fist against their shared wall. “Keep it down!” he shouted.

“No!” Amélie immediately shouted back.

Fucking hell. Amélie was lucky Genji felt too shitty to get out of bed, or else she’d be getting a piece of his mind. He growled and gave the wall one last thump for good measure, then flopped onto his stomach and clamped his pillow over his ears.

It was enough to block out the low grunts of Amélie’s partner, but not Amélie’s own high-pitched moans. Hearing only her, crying out with pleasure… Okay, there were worse things he could be forced to listen to.

Genji fell asleep with Amélie’s breathless voice in his ears, and he dreamed of her, of this woman he barely knew. She was underneath him in his bed, long dark hair spread out across his pillow, gasping as he fucked her. Her legs were wrapped tight around him and her fingers were in his hair and her eyes rolled back and she screamed his name and --

He woke feeling uncomfortably warm. He wiggled a little bit and -- yep. Great. Lying in a puddle of his own jizz. Disgusting. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a wet dream. It must be because he was sick, so his body was acting up. Yeah. That made sense.

Genji rolled out of bed with a groan and glanced over at the clock. It was barely midnight. At least it sounded like Amélie was done with her loud hypocrite sex, so hopefully he’d be able to fall back asleep quickly. He waddled out of his room and across the hall to the communal bathroom to clean himself up.

Jesus, he felt like hell. Looked like hell, too, he realized when he went to wash his hands after he’d finished. Massive dark circles under his eyes, nose red and raw from blowing it so much. The sooner he could get back to sleep, the better.

Just then, the bathroom door opened, and -- just his fucking luck -- it was Amélie who walked in. God. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

“Hey,” she said absently as she started to walk past him, and he thought maybe he was safe, but then she froze and frowned. “You’re sick.”

“Yeah.” Genji shut off the sink and yanked some paper towels out of the dispenser to dry his hands, still unable to look her in the eye.

“Sorry about earlier. I didn’t realize…”

“S’okay. Now we’re even, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Amélie hesitated for a second, then said, “You have an ultimate frisbee game tomorrow, right?”

That surprised Genji enough to get him to look at her. She was in a sky blue silk robe that looked amazing against her brown skin, and it was the first time he’d seen her with her hair down, and she looked so concerned and sleepy and perfect that for a second Genji forgot about literally everything else.

Then she raised an eyebrow, and he remembered that she’d asked him a question. “Uh, yeah. Frisbee game. Yeah, I do.” He frowned and tilted his head. “How do you know that?”

One corner of Amélie’s mouth quirked up in a tiny smirk. “The only thing louder than you having sex is you talking about ultimate frisbee.”

Okay, that checked out. He got _really_ enthusiastic about ultimate frisbee. Still, he couldn’t resist smirking back and retorting, “Actually, the only things louder than me having sex are me talking about ultimate frisbee and _you_ having sex.”

Amélie scowled. “I am _not_ louder than you.”

_Only one way to find out. We should do it together sometime._

Genji shook himself and managed a laugh. “You keep telling yourself that, doll.”

Amélie rolled her eyes. “Well, good luck at your game.”

“Thanks. You too.” Too late, he realized his mistake. “I mean -- ”

Amélie was laughing. Amélie was _laughing_. Genji’s heart fluttered. He made a face at her. “I’m sick, okay? Don’t judge me.”

“Too late.” Amélie patted his shoulder gently, still smiling. “Feel better, though.”

“Thanks,” Genji said again, being extra careful not to add the _You too_ this time, but she was already walking away.

 

***

 

“You’re here!”

Genji was panting, bent over with his hands on his knees, but he was looking up at Amélie with bright eyes and an even brighter smile.

Amélie shrugged, feigning indifference. “I was on my way home and figured I might as well stop by. I’ve only been here a few minutes.”

That was sort of true. She’d sat in the parking lot for half an hour, trying to decide whether or not showing up to Genji’s frisbee game uninvited was too weird, and she’d ended up forcing herself out of her car and onto the sidelines just in time to catch the last few minutes of the game.

Genji, for his part, looked ecstatic to see her there, which was gratifying. “Did you see my sick dive at the end there?”

“I did. Congratulations on the win.”

“Thanks,” Genji said, beaming proudly. “We’ve won all our games so far. We’ll probably make it at least to the semifinals.”

“That’s cool,” Amélie replied, a little absently, because now Genji was stretching his arms over his head and his pecs were straining at his shirt and goddamn his chest was almost definitely bigger than hers and that was honestly kind of a turnon.

His arms came back down, and he looked Amélie briefly up and down and smiled. “You look great, by the way.”

Amélie had definitely not dressed up for this. Her choice of pastel pink short shorts was a purely practical one in the September heat and had absolutely nothing to do with how incredible they made her long legs look. The tight white V-neck that showed off her cleavage and slender waist was also practical, somehow.

“Thank you,” she said anyway. “You look...sweaty.” Wow. Smooth, Guillard.

Genji laughed heartily. “Yeah, that’s probably because I am sweaty. Sorry.” He grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it up to wipe at the sweat on his forehead. With his face covered, Amélie decided it was okay to let herself check him out for a second, and she immediately regretted it. He was so fucking toned. It wasn’t fair.

After a second, Genji pulled his shirt back down and smiled at Amélie, and she tried her best to look like she hadn’t just been staring at his abs in awe. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, still damp with sweat, making it stick out oddly. “Hey, so, a bunch of us are going out to dinner to celebrate. Do you wanna come?”

He looked genuinely hopeful, and Amélie was almost tempted to accept, but she couldn’t. Spending more time with him was _not_ a good idea. Not right now, when he was sweaty and excited and practically oozing with that stupid irresistible charm of his. “Thanks, but I can’t,” she lied. “I have...some stuff to do.”

“Oh. Okay.” Genji seemed disappointed, but he smiled at her anyway. “Well, thanks for coming. Good luck with your stuff.”

“Thanks. Have fun at dinner.”

With one last wave, Genji bounded back to join his teammates, and Amélie made her way slowly back to her car, kicking herself the whole way. She should’ve gone.

When she got back to her dorm she sat down in her desk chair, legs crossed, head down on the desk. What was she supposed to do now? She didn’t actually _have_ any stuff to do. She could try studying, maybe, but she didn’t really need to, and she had a feeling she’d be too distracted to do any good, anyway.

Going to the game had been a mistake. Now, when Amélie closed her eyes, she saw Genji. Saw him leaping into the air to make a desperate save. Saw him giving each of his teammates a sweaty, affectionate hug and showering them all with praise after their win. Saw him smiling at her and running his fingers through his hair in that obnoxiously endearing way of his.

Then it turned into running his fingers through _her_ hair. Pulling her close, whispering in her ear how good she looked and how well she was doing. Wrapping those strong arms around her so tight she could barely breathe.

Amélie almost didn’t notice her hand moving of its own accord until she felt her fingertips brush against her inner thigh, up beneath the hem of her shorts. With a start she jerked her hand away and sat up straight. She was _not_ going to do that. No matter how insistent the ache between her legs was. It would go away eventually.

It didn’t go away. Half an hour later she was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep early just to get rid of it, but it wasn’t getting any better. If anything, it was getting worse, because now the thought of her bed was pushing its way into her unwanted fantasies, and she was uncomfortably warm all over.

Finally she gave up and sat back up in bed with a frustrated sigh. She _hated_ cold showers, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She grabbed her shower caddy and towel and trudged out to the communal bathroom.

The shower sucked, but it did help. By the time Amélie couldn’t stand the cold water any longer, she’d almost managed to forget about Genji and his stupid hair and muscles and smile. Almost.

She got out and wrapped her towel around herself, then gathered her things and padded back out into the bathroom. She stopped in front of a sink and mirror and wrung her hair out as best she could before tackling it with her brush.

When she was almost done, the bathroom door opened, and of fucking course it was Genji who walked in. Of course it was always the two of them running into each other in the bathroom late at night. That was great.

He gave her a friendly grin. “Hey. How did your stuff go?”

Amélie wasn’t sure if she was imagining the emphasis on the word _stuff_. If he knew she’d been lying, he didn’t say so. “It was good,” she said vaguely. “How was dinner?”

“Alright.” Genji shifted the towel he was holding to his other arm. He was still wearing the same gym shorts and sweaty shirt from his frisbee game, which wasn’t really doing Amélie any favors.

He cocked his head, and his mouth parted like he was going to say something, but he stopped, and Amélie’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”

Genji’s voice was a little lower than before when he spoke. “Nothing, it’s just…” His eyes traveled slowly down Amélie’s body, then back up, lingering on what was exposed by her towel before meeting her gaze again and giving her a half smile. “You look good wet.”

All of the heat Amélie had tried to wash away with her cold shower came rushing back. Her mouth fell open, but Genji had already turned around and was heading towards the showers.

She stared after him, at the muscles of his back, at his ass in his gym shorts.

And then she bolted back to her room and slammed the door shut behind her.

 _Fuck_ Genji. Fuck him and his smooth lines and his perfect body. Amélie ripped her towel off and let it fall to the floor before throwing herself onto her bed. She lay there for a long moment, breathing hard, eyes closed.

This time, when her hand made its way down between her legs, she didn’t stop it.

 

***

 

_You look good wet._

Genji thumped his head against the shower wall with a groan. Could he have been any fucking creepier? He hadn’t intended the double entendre, hadn’t even realized it until it was already out of his mouth and he could do nothing but walk away before Amélie could see how fucking red his face was.

He kept his shower short and cold, trying to smother the hot flush of his embarrassment and the lingering arousal from seeing Amélie in just a towel that barely covered anything, _dripping_ wet --

He slammed the handle to turn the shower off and only bothered to towel himself halfway dry before hurrying back to his room. He just needed to go to sleep.

When he got into his room he shut the door quietly behind him and pulled on just a pair of boxers before sliding right into bed. He shuffled around for a minute to get comfortable and settled on his side, facing the wall. He closed his eyes and prayed sleep would find him before his mind started to wander.

And then he heard Amélie moan.

He screwed his eyes shut tighter. Now was _not_ a great time for him to have to listen to Amélie having sex. Was that the “stuff” she’d said she had to do? Had she only stopped by his game on her way to a hot date?

Genji wasn’t sure why that thought bothered him. He liked Amélie, of course he did, but it wasn’t like he had a _crush_ on her or anything. He’d just thought that maybe she’d come to his frisbee game because she’d wanted to support him. Or something stupid like that.

There was another moan, a little louder, then a sigh. Both Amélie.

Genji opened his eyes and frowned. He scooted closer to the wall to try and hear better, which really didn’t help him feel any less creepy but...he _had_ to know.

On the other side of the wall, the bed wasn’t creaking like it usually did when Amélie brought someone home. There were no low grunts or breathy whimpers of a second person. There was only Amélie’s voice, and she was gasping and sighing like she was trying to keep quiet but couldn’t.

Amélie was getting herself off.

Genji’s entire body was in flames. He dragged a hand down his face, trying to collect himself. The timing _had_ to be a coincidence. Sure, he’d maybe been trying to flaunt his muscles for her a bit after the game, but he didn’t even know if she was into that. And then there was their weird encounter in the showers.

It would be ridiculous to assume this had anything to do with him. But Genji decided that, just for the night, he could let himself imagine that it did.

He let himself imagine that Amélie wanted him the same way he was starting to realize he wanted her. Looking through that lens, it was easy to imagine that Amélie had been smitten by his muscles and skills. He could imagine that, to someone who wanted him, _You look good wet_ could be more of a sexy line than a creepy come-on.

And now that he was doing this, he could let himself think: _God_ , Amélie looked good wet. Her hair dark and sleek and smooth, her skin practically glowing. Water droplets running down her chest, down her legs. That tiny fucking towel.

As another moan carried through the wall, Genji’s hand slid down into his boxers. He wondered what she was doing. Was she using her hand, or did she like toys? Maybe she was pretending it was _his_ hand touching her. Shit. Genji imagined it was Amélie’s hand rather than his own that was wrapping around his cock.

He stroked himself in time with what he could hear of Amélie’s sighs, slowly at first, gradually growing faster. She let out a particularly loud moan, and he quickly brought his free hand up to cover his mouth and keep him from making any noise.

Amélie’s breathing started to get higher, faster, louder. Genji pictured her writhing on her bed, legs spread, knuckle deep in her own pussy. He pictured her eyes shut tight and her hand twisted in her own hair as she gasped and whimpered desperately. Genji bit the back of his hand to stifle a moan, and his hand on his cock got faster and sloppier.

And then Amélie cried out, high and breathless and drawn out. In his mind Genji saw her back arching and her eyes rolling back and -- fuck, he was going to come too, why hadn’t he grabbed a towel or something --

He yanked his hand away from his mouth to grab a handful of tissues and just barely managed to shove it into his boxers before he was coming.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he gasped, louder than he meant to, and without his hand over his mouth he couldn’t hold back a groan as he continued to pump himself until he was spent.

He couldn’t hear Amélie anymore. He just hoped she hadn’t heard him.

 

***

 

On the other side of the wall, Amélie lay panting in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment, she glanced over at the wall beside her and smirked.

She knew what she’d heard.

**Author's Note:**

> what's up gamers long time no see! i wrote this chapter about a million years ago and just haven't gotten around to finishing the whole fic. i'm pretty close now so i figured i might as well post the first chapter since it's been done for like 6 months. hopefully the rest will be coming soon!
> 
> you can find both ace and me on twitter:  
> ace [@westerngenre](http://twitter.com/westerngenre)  
> me, aie/katie [@glamourtentia](http://twitter.com/glamourtentia)  
> talk to us about genjamé


End file.
